Of Tinsel and Trouble
by Phoenix Sparrow
Summary: A companion piece to Of Tinsel and Traditions. This is Scott's third time doing his Christmas Eve rounds but this year is a bit different when he wakes a little girl while delivering her gift. Is that recognition?


_A/N: So, this is a tie in to Of Tinsel and Traditions: A Father's Legacy. The first chapter of that story is Scott's fifth Christmas as Santa, so this one is set before then. It would probably help to have read at least the first chapter to fully get this one._

 _It can be found here: s/12253599/1/Of-Tinsel-and-Traditions-A-Father-s-Legacy_

* * *

" _You ready, Scott?_ "

Scott tilted his head at the sound of John's voice in his ear, aware that no one else would hear the call. John had directed it to his private channel, his words streaming straight to his earpiece. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, knowing that John would pick up on his reply as he watched Grandma fussing around the room straightening the cushions and Virgil gathering up plates and cups left over from a late evening snack.

He leaned closer to the table and picked up the foil wrapper that had once covered a chocolate Santa and shook his head. His brothers didn't know about his Christmas Eve journey so it felt both amusing and a little weird to see them eating the chocolate figure.

" _Scott?_ "

Well, most of his brothers. One knew, of course. He glanced between his grandmother and middle brother. "I'll, um, I'll gather up the trash then I'm gonna head to bed," he said, picking up the detritus from the table.

"No problem, Scott," Grandma said, watching him with a smile, an almost knowing twinkle in her eyes.

Scott nodded and took the wrappers to the bin before heading upstairs.

He got into his room and leaned against the inside of the closed door, scrubbing a hand over his face. He was beginning to feel that pull, the need to get to Thunderbird One, but he knew as long as any of his family were up, he couldn't get down there. Not without raising questions.

" _Scott, is everything alright?_ "

"They're not all in bed yet, John," Scott replied, his head tilting back against the door. "I can't go."

" _So use some of your magic,_ " John suggested.

"I can't do that!" Scott exclaimed, shaking his head. "Can I?"

" _It's your magic, Scott. Isn't the idea that it enables you to do anything you need to fulfil the Santa role?_ "

"Well, yeah, but…" He huffed before waving his hand in front of him, a glitter-rimmed image of John appearing in mid-air as though he'd just opened a window into Thunderbird Five in front of him. "You really think that would work?" he asked, folding his arms as he watched John turn to face him.

" _Oh, hey, Scott,_ " John said, only just noticing him. " _I don't see why not. Try it._ "

Scott frowned in concentration, focusing his thoughts on his family and projecting ideas of going to their rooms to settle for the night.

When he looked back up at John he saw a grin on his face. " _Think it might have worked, Scott._ "

"Really?" Another wave of his hand and the view of John changed into a layout of their home, a marker indicating the location of each resident of the island. "Well, either that was one heck of a coincidence, or you're right and it really did work," he stated, noting that everyone was in their rooms before returning the floating display to the image of John.

The space monitor grinned. " _Of course I'm right,_ " he said.

Scott smiled at him. "Well, I'll head down to launch then. See you when I get there." He waved his hand through the display, a shower of glitter raining down as the image dispersed.

Quietly, he made his way through the living area, glad that no one was around now, before accessing the hangars through his own hidden entrance.

He rode his elevator down, the transformation from Scott to Santa taking place as he went, until finally, he stepped out onto the extending platform, adjusting the belt around his bright red coat and straightening the hat that covered his now-gleaming-white hair. "John? Just about to board Thunderbird. How's everything looking?"

" _Everything's clear right now, Scott. Scans suggest everyone on the island is asleep now and the skies are clear for take-off._ "

"FAB, John, thanks," Scott replied, sitting down in his control chair and pulling the shoulder restraints into place. "Here we go again."

* * *

It didn't take long for Scott to settle back into his routine. A combination of the speed of his Thunderbird, coupled with just a touch of his magic meant he was able to get to every child rapidly. What usually caused the biggest hold up for Scott, were his frequent distractions.

" _Scott, are you eating cookies again?_ " John asked.

Scott looked up at the image of his brother floating in front of him as he settled back into his seat. "Um, no," he replied, lowering the hand holding one out of sight.

John chuckled. " _You're not a good liar, Scott,_ " he stated. " _What type was it this time?_ "

"Oatmeal and raisin," he muttered sheepishly, taking another bite. "I can't help it. You know I like cookies."

" _Hmm, I think you like them a lot more on Christmas Eve than you do the rest of the year._ "

"Maybe," he replied. He put the last of the cookie into his mouth, smiling with satisfaction as he finished it. "Alright, now where?" he asked, dusting the crumbs out of his beard.

John shook his head in amusement. " _You need to head north-west next,_ " John stated. " _That was the last house in this town with a child. Onto the next town._ "

"On it," Scott said.

* * *

" _Alright, Scott, clear to land,_ " John announced.

"FAB, John, heading down." He lowered Thunderbird One down carefully, the craft coming to rest of the roof of the closest house. Despite the small structure, he knew his vehicle would be safe, though he was yet to work out whether his magic made the Thunderbird lighter, or strengthened the roof for landing. He looked over his shoulder at the pile of gifts and climbed out of his seat, going over. His gaze raked over the brightly coloured parcels before coming to rest on a metallic blue-papered box with a silver ribbon round it. "Hmm, like the choices of colours for this one," he said, smiling to himself.

" _Of course you do, they match your uniform,_ " John retorted, grinning at him.

"This kid's got good taste," he replied, turning it over in his hands. He knew what was inside. He always did. "They asked for a toy plane that looks like Thunderbird One."

" _Oh, did they now?_ " John said, shaking his head with a laugh. " _Don't let it go to your head, Scott._ "

"Hey, I'm not gonna do that," Scott answered. "I'm heading in now."

" _Alright, Scott, and not too many cookies!_ "

Scott rolled his eyes in good humour before climbing out of Thunderbird One. Putting the gift into his sack to protect it from getting dirty, he made his way over to the chimney and looked down it. "Okay, here we go," he said to himself, climbing up onto the brick base of the chimney. The next thing he knew, he was inside the house.

He looked around, smiling at the way the room had been decorated. The tree resided in the corner, shining with varying shades of blue and silver. He tilted his head as he regarded it, approaching. "Looks like there's a bit of a theme going on here," he muttered, smiling slightly as he lifted a sparkling blue bauble, letting it roll across his gloved fingertips. He let it drop back, watching as it caught the light of the bright white LEDs glinting among the branches before returning his attention to his pack.

Crouching down in front of the tree, he reached inside to pull the gift out, being careful not to damage it in the process. He placed it down, nestling it amongst the other packages there, then stood up, but as he turned around to head back to the chimney, he got his foot snagged in the drawstring of his bag and before he knew what was happening, he'd tumbled and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Ugh, ow," he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his arm which he'd bumped against the small table in the centre of the room.

" _You alright, Scott?_ " John asked, concerned.

"Yeah, forgot to pick up the bag properly and tripped over the string. No harm…" His voice trailed off when he noticed the small figure stood in the doorway. "…Done. Oh dear."

"Santa?" A small girl of about seven years of age stood in front of him, her dressing gown huddled around her.

" _You woke someone up, didn't you?_ " John stated, sounding slightly amused.

"Yeah," Scott muttered, answering them both. He went over and stooped in front of her. "Hey there. Did I disturb you?"

She rubbed her eyes and nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Want me to take you back to your bed, Jessie?"

"You know my name?"

Scott smiled at her. "Of course I do," he whispered. "And I have something here for you, too." He pointed at the tree, indicating the parcel beneath it.

She looked from him to the gift. "You got my letter?" she asked, a smile forming on her lips.

"I certainly did," he replied. He stood up, going back to the tree and picking up the shiny package. "Here you go."

Jessie took it from him and looked at it, smiling. "Thank you, Santa," she whispered, looking back up at him.

He crouched in front of her, bending down on one knee to put his hand gently on her shoulder. "You're more than welcome," he replied.

She tilted her head as she looked at him, her expression creasing into a small frown.

"Something wrong?" Scott asked.

"Your voice. When you said that, I've heard that before," she said, stepping closer to him and looking up into his eyes. "I've met you before."

"I didn't wake you up last year as well, did I?" Scott asked, sitting back on his heels.

She shook her head and looked down at her gift. "Can I open this now?" she asked hesitantly.

"If you'd like," Scott replied, slightly confused. He was intrigued by this girl. There was something about her but he couldn't put his finger on what had piqued his curiosity. Normally, if he was caught by a child, he'd take them back to bed, sit and talk to them for a little while, then use some of his magic to help them settle back to sleep, knowing that they'd just assume he'd been a dream.

But this girl… He shook his head briefly then watched her unwrap the gift. She was very delicate, carefully preserving the shiny paper and gleaming ribbon and placing them on the table, then opened the box and reached inside.

Scott couldn't help but smile. The toy plane did indeed look very much like Thunderbird One.

"It's just how I remember it," she whispered.

"Remember it?" Even as he said it, it felt like the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

She nodded then looked up at him, smiling, though her eyes shone with unshed tears. "You are Santa, aren't you?"

Scott tilted his head a little, then smiled and drew her gently onto his lap. "I am indeed, Jessie," he said softly. "I know that you've got a dog called Benji and a kitten called Spot and that your Dad is upstairs asleep because he was at work at the police station earlier so he's real tired."

"Yeah," she said. "But you look different to how I remember. Because you sound like the man who helped me when me and Daddy fell down the sinkhole thing."

"Ah," Scott replied, sighing softly. "Well, you're quite right, Jessie. I am Santa. And I remember you quite well now. I'm also the man who helped you and your daddy after you fell down the sinkhole thing."

"I knew it! I knew I knew that voice!"

Scott chuckled. "You're very clever, Jessie," he said.

"That's why I asked for this," she murmured, looking at the plane in her hand. "Because it saved our lives. And I asked Daddy if we could have the colours from your uniform for our tree this year because _you_ saved our lives."

Scott pursed his lips a little, not sure he trusted himself to speak at that moment. He was so touched. "Well, I'm glad I was able to help you, Jessie," he finally said quietly. "Did it take long for your daddy's broken arm to fix?"

"He went back to work with a cast on it," she answered. "And when he came home there was writing all over it. All his friends had written nice messages for him."

"They did?" He chuckled again. "Casts are fun like that. My little brother had one once and one of my other brothers drew a really cool picture on it for him."

"Santa's got brothers?" Jessie asked, her eyes wide as she turned on his lap to face him.

"Mmm hmm. And a grandma who tells me off for not putting furniture back when my Thunderbird takes off."

"You've got a grandma?" Her eyes were as wide as saucers. "Wow!"

He couldn't help but laugh again. "I might be Santa, but for the rest of the year I look very different, as you know because as you quite rightly pointed out, we've met before. I'm not as old as I look."

"How come you changed?"

He leaned closer to her, tilting his head down by her ear. "Magic," he whispered. "And in the morning, when I've finished delivering all the presents to all the children in all the world, I'll look like the man who helped you again."

"Wow!" she whispered again.

Scott smiled at her, his expression full of fondness as he watched her yawn deeply. "Come on, it's late and you don't want to be all sleepy on Christmas Day, do you?"

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes again.

"Alright, up we go then, Jessie," he murmured, lifting her gently and sitting her on his hip. "Back to bed you go."

"Thank you, Santa," she whispered, beginning to doze off again. "And I think it's so cool."

"What's so cool?" Scott asked, walking into her room.

"Santa helps kids be happy at Christmas and International Rescue helps loads of people be happy by saving them. You're so cool."

Scott closed his eyes briefly, smiling again. "Why, thank you," he whispered, laying her back down in her bed. He drew her covers back over her, then looked around. On the wall above her bed were pictures she'd drawn of Thunderbird One and even some of himself, flying above two other figures she'd drawn which were obviously her father and herself. He remembered the rescue quite clearly. To him, it was a simple case of flying down with his jetpack to perform a reconnaissance of the area, then once he'd determined the best course of action, he lowered down the winch and harness for Jessie's father due to his injury, and carried the girl back up himself. So routine, an action he'd performed many times in various different scenarios, but this was possibly the first time he was hearing about it from the other side after the fact.

Jessie saw him looking at the pictures so wriggled out from under her covers. She stood on her pillow and took down the one in the middle, showing both him and his Thunderbird lifting her and her father. She looked at it briefly then handed it over to him. "You can have this if you want."

"Oh, Jessie, I couldn't take your picture," he said, holding up his hands.

"I can draw another one," she replied, sitting back down and sliding her legs under her covers again. "But I want you to have this."

He took it carefully from her and looked at it again, suddenly feeling incredibly emotional. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Thank _you_ , Santa," she responded, letting Scott tuck her back in again. "You won't be late to the other children because of me, will you?"

"No, I'll use a little magic and be right back on schedule." He smiled, watching her drift off to sleep. He knew she'd remember this, making sure his magic only aided her into slumber. He also knew he could trust this young girl implicitly. Somehow, he just knew she'd keep this to herself.

He held out his hand and the sack he'd discarded in her living room appeared there, the string wrapped around his fingers, then glanced towards the ceiling and with a pop, he was back on the roof.

" _Scott? What's going on? Are you alright?_ "

"Sorry, John," he said quietly. "I'm fine. I'll explain when I'm airborne." He climbed back into Thunderbird One and sat back in his control chair. The sack was discarded by the pile of presents behind him and he'd removed his gloves to run his fingers over the crayon marks made by the little girl so proud to have been saved by him. He wiped his eyes, using a little of his magic to send the picture home, knowing it'd find its way to his desk where it would be safe and not lost during his rounds.

He pulled his gloves back on and started up the jets, Thunderbird One lifting into the air again.

" _So, gonna tell me now?_ "

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright. Well, you remember that sinkhole you sent me to? A man and a child needed our help…" And as he flew towards his next stop, Scott explained about the little girl who'd reminded him that he brought joy to children not just at Christmas with the gifts he delivered, but every time he went out. Each time he rescued someone, he was returning a family member to their loved ones.


End file.
